Chapter 13:
Burns and Info
By: Chronos the Fallen Angel
Author's Note: I know that this is the first time that I don't have a quote, but believe me, thinking of them is hard.
Not much to say here, just continue reading and anything not created by me isn't mine.
A couple things, thank you for those who have reviewed my story. I am will to accept constrictive criticism, but no flames. Hoogie356, thank you for the review, and I understand what you are saying. That will change, but such an event as what happened to Hermione is enough for her to cry at all. She was raped numerous times, beaten countless times, and her parents were murdered. She is a bit unstable, but Harry's role is to help her. He is her balance. But I will try to fix that.
Again thank you for the review and enjoy. And I've fix the mistake in chapter 7.
* * * * * *
The next days past slowly, Roland had disappeared after their first night at Grimmauld Place, Number 12. Heather didn't even know where he was; he just upright vanished. Moony and Tonks were both worried, but Mad-Eye seemed rather pleased when he was gone. "The boy knows his place," he kept on saying whenever asked.
No one asked about Harry and Hermione sharing a room, which she was grateful for. They both rarely left it, inside, reading a book together or talking about anything. Moony was kind enough to give the Daily Prophet each day, and Hermione read it out loud as Harry exercised. They had made it a daily routine for him to exercise as she read the paper. Harry always said that he loved her voice. Sometimes, just to annoy him, Hermione sat on his back as she read. Still, he was able to finish his push-ups and sit-ups.
Heather often hung out with Harry and Hermione, not that he minded. She needed someone to talk to since Roland was off doing what ever he did. Harry could never remember when he was gone this long though. "I'm started to get worried about him," he said one day, they were having lunch with moony and Tonks. Mad-Eye was off on some Order business.
"He's a big boy," Tonks said, "He can take care of himself." She served herself another sandwich.
"But he's as tired as I think he's been, then Roland's in trouble." Heather was just playing with the salad on her plate. "He was complaining about being exhausted before."
"Do you know what his job is?" Hermione asked, and took another bit of her sandwich.
"No, I don't think anyone really does." Heather stopped, and just stared at the plate. "He hides it so well."
"Yeah I do don't I," Roland said, he appeared in the kitchen; Heather popped out of her chair and immediately hugged him. He took a few steps back, still weak from his job.
"I've missed you so much," she replied, not letting go.
"So I notice," he said, but quickly added, "and I miss you too. Can you let go? My ribs are killing me, a few of them are probably broken."
"Roland," Heather immediately let go and let him over to a chair. "Why did you say anything?"
"Because," He removed his hat and showed the bruises the covered his face, "I knew you'd act this way."
"Merlin, Roland," Hermione said, covering her mouth, "what happened?"
"Don't worry about it," he said, "just don't touch me too hard on my good arm, some third degree burns on it and I haven't figured out a way to remove them." Roland pulled up his right sleeve and showed the burns running down the arm.
"Oh, that's easier," Tonks said, and picked up her wand. She pointed it at his arm. "Burnet Removus."
"No, don't do-" Roland tried to say, but the spell was out, and he jerked back in pain. The wounds on his arm had opened up again, and started to bleed. Smoke began to pour from the pours of his skin and at some points it ignited into flames. He collapsed onto the floor, with a terrified look painted on Tonks face.
"I didn't mean to, I mean-it was the right spell." Heather knelt down next to Roland and began to run her fingers through his long hair. He was twitching on the floor. Harry quickly moved over to Hermione's side, placing his hands on her shoulders. She immediately calmed down.
Moony just stared there, staring at the young man in pain. Harry guessed it was because that he must have felt that much pain when he transformed into his werewolf form. The old man just stared, horrified at what he was seeing.
Roland never screamed, before at least Harry never heard him. And So when the tough man on the ground screamed, it was a surprise to everyone in the room. It wasn't a girlie scream, no his scream of pain was dark and horrible. It seemed to touch everyone in the room. But Roland only screamed once, he slowly stopped jerking, and began to pant hard. His breathing was deep and long. "Don't ever try to help me again," were the first words out of his mouth after it.
"I'm sorry, I didn't-" Tonks started. Roland stood up and had one of his shadow swords in his hand. It was pointed straight at her neck.
"I don't give a damn, Tonks," he yelled, "The path to hell is paved with good intentions." Roland was holding his right arm against his body. it was still smoking, but at least the wounds had stopped bleeding and weren't on fire anymore. "Because of my powers and the blood that runs through my body, most healing spells don't work." He was calmer, not yelling anymore. "I've had to create every single spell that I've healed myself with. So please, for my one sake, don't help me." He walked off and headed up stairs.
"I'm so sorry," Tonks kept on saying.
"Relax," Heather looked up at her calmly. "You didn't know."
"is he going to be alright?" Moony asked, finally getting out of his shock.
"Probably, that arm will be wrapped up for the next few days," Heather replied. "I just hope he'll talk to me about what happened."
"He won't you know," Mad-Eye appeared. "Roland's job is too important to this world for anyone else to know."
"Do you know what it is?" Harry asked. Hermione was just staring at where Roland was. He was gently rubbing her shoulders.
"No, but I have a good idea." Mad-Eye walked over to Moony. "Some more Wolfsbane for the month." And handed him a large vile.
"And what is that?" Harry asked.
"Roland is a hunter," Mad-Eye replied. "He removes the worst of the worst from this planet. The undead mostly." Harry noticed a twinkle in the old man's eye, like was lying, but he couldn't prove it. "you must promise not to tell anyone. If you know about him and his job, then you could be in danger."
"We can protect ourselves," Tonks stated.
"Not from these dangers, Tonks. What Roland faces, he faces because he is the only one who can survive the horror. Being blind means he sees more then us. Being a cripple means he is stronger then us." Mad-Eye walked off and disappeared into another room. Heather ran off probably to check on Roland.
Harry looked down at Hermione. "You alright?" He asked, still massaging her shoulders.
"I'll be fine," she said, "let's go upstairs." Hermione stood up; he kept his hands on her shoulders for a moment before sliding them down to her waist. She gave him a smile as they walked out. They heard voices at the top of the stairs.
"Listen, Mad-Eye," Roland was saying, "I really owe you." Hermione stopped where she was and so did Harry, they wanted to hear this.
"Roland, you don't owe me nothing," Mad-Eye said, "you've done so much for this world, it was the least I could do."
"Thank you, and thank you again for the info. I would've found them sooner or later, but it was a good thing that it was sooner."
"Good, I'd thought that info on the-" Mad-Eye stopped all the suddenly.
After a long moment of silence, Roland finally said, "the walls have feelings."
Both Harry and Hermione stopped breathing. Mad-Eye walked away, as he heard the sounds of the wooden leg hitting he fallen. A door shut, they didn't move for a while. Harry looked at her and said "do you think he noticed us?"
"I doubt it," Hermione started to walk back up the stairs; Harry wrapped his fingers around hers and followed. "Roland's powers aren't that strong. He told me once that the range of his empathic abilities was about two or three feet. We were least a good six feet away."
"But he did feel us all the way across the ocean," Harry said. They stopped at their door, and Harry opened it.
"Thank you Harry." They entered together, still hand in hand. "Harry, that was a traumatic event. He couldn't have felt us just standing there, being nosy."
"You're welcome," Harry said, "fine, Hermione. I won't win anyways." They sat down on the bed, and Harry pulled up his guitar.
"You've grown smarter, Harry," Hermione laughed at him. Harry started to strum a few notes and Hermione laid her head on his shoulder. "When do you think we'll be able to see Ron again?"
Harry paused and looked at Hermione. "I was thinking about that too, maybe we should owl him to meet us at Diagon Alley."
"That would be nice," she said, "I'm worried though."
"About what?" Harry turned back to his guitar.
"About us," Hermione replied, and Harry stopped again.
"What about us?" Harry was beginning to get worried.
"Relax, Harry," Hermione sat up and kissed him, "nothing bad, I'm just wondering how Ron will react with me going out with you." She knelt next to him, just staring into his eyes. "After all, I did break up with him."
"Yeah, he was pretty upset with that for a while," Harry smiled. "And why wouldn't he, you are the prefect girlfriend." He gave her soft gently kiss. "And I'm glad you're mine, 'Mione." She wrapped her arms around his neck, and Harry slid the guitar back to the ground. He lied down with her on top of him, their lips on connected. Harry knew only to take it as far as Hermione wanted to, so she was the one in control. After a few minutes of peaceful kissing, Hermione released and slid down to his side. "you're beautiful, and don't let anyone else tell you different."
"Thank you, Harry," Hermione blushed. He knew how much it helped her to hear such positive remarks about her. But he never lied to her. Harry did think that she was beautiful. He did think that she was perfect.
* * * * * *
Dumbledore sat quietly in his study, reading one of his old books. It was a peaceful night. The fire was burning bright, lighting up the room. A smile was on his face as he read the passages; next to him was a goblet of pumpkin juice, and an empty plate where his dinner once was. He had been alone for the past week, reading the books that were given to him by the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. They were very interesting, talking about a society that was even more secretive then the wizards were. The room suddenly began to grow colder; the fire began to die down. "You know, you could use the door like anyone else," Dumbledore said, turning a page.
"I was not in the neighbor when I traveled here," the man's voice said, darkness had arrived in the room, and covered almost all of it, save the little light where Dumbledore was. "And I did not want to scare any of your other teachers."
"It's quite alright, Hal," Dumbledore stood and turned around. Despite his old age, there was still a twinkle in his eye and a spring in his step. "Any news yet?"
"No, he was recently fighting a group of the Demon's warriors, and defeated them in three days time. That boy has been more trouble then he is worth, in his actions and his voice, you can clearly tell that he is one of them, Dumbledore."
"Which is why he's so important, Hal. May I remind you that he is more then willing to die for our cause? A quality that is rare these days."
"A simple spell, even one like that of the killing curse, can not kill Roland Childe." Hal spat out the name like it was poison. "He is not trustworthy. Especially with the demon inside him."
"I happen to believe otherwise, Hal," Dumbledore said, "he bares enough power to defeat Voldemort, and end this once and for all. And that demon which you speak of is the key."
"If Voldemort has his connections that I think he does, then Roland will be too weak by Christmas to do anything." A long period of silence followed, and Dumbledore began to rub his beard. A smile was on his face. "What are you thinking?"
"If he is too fixated on Roland, then the six elements will come in handy, won't they?" Dumbledore asked.
"Yes, but only the Fallen Angel can release their powers, and no one, not even heaven or hell knows where he is." Hal stared at him. "The Fallen Angel is the one we need to be looking for."
"I agree; do you have any clue as to where he is?" Dumbledore walked over to the man he called Hal. Up to that moment, he was hidden in the shadows. But when Dumbledore got closer, Hal's face began to show. It was ghostly pale, and had a green mask covering his eyes. A black hood was covering his head, and his black robe covered his body.
"In heaven, it is rumored that he is in-between the ages of sixteen and twenty-five. And that he has access to the wizarding powers in his body."
"Anything else?"
"Yes, he will be attending your school this year. It is just a hunch remember that. A lot of kids will show potential but only the true one will hide his abilities." Dumbledore showed that twinkle in his eye. "Do you know something that I don't, Albus?"
"No, nothing at all," Dumbledore quickly walked back to his chair. "If that I is all Hal, I thank you for you help. Please keep me informed of the situation."
"Of course," Hal dissolved into the air, and the warmth returned to the air, as did the fire grew back to its normal power.
"Roland, Roland, Roland," Dumbledore was saying. He took his seat and placed the book back in his lap. "I'm pulling for you, my boy. The war is growing, and Voldemort is getting stronger. He has found help through the evil mutants of this world, and now has your kind involved. You need to get stronger and hold out. Once you're here, I can help. I can help." He repeated it, if only to reassure himself, because he knew the extent of Roland's problems, and everything else that would go wrong at Hogwarts this year.
Burns and Info
By: Chronos the Fallen Angel
Author's Note: I know that this is the first time that I don't have a quote, but believe me, thinking of them is hard.
Not much to say here, just continue reading and anything not created by me isn't mine.
A couple things, thank you for those who have reviewed my story. I am will to accept constrictive criticism, but no flames. Hoogie356, thank you for the review, and I understand what you are saying. That will change, but such an event as what happened to Hermione is enough for her to cry at all. She was raped numerous times, beaten countless times, and her parents were murdered. She is a bit unstable, but Harry's role is to help her. He is her balance. But I will try to fix that.
Again thank you for the review and enjoy. And I've fix the mistake in chapter 7.
* * * * * *
The next days past slowly, Roland had disappeared after their first night at Grimmauld Place, Number 12. Heather didn't even know where he was; he just upright vanished. Moony and Tonks were both worried, but Mad-Eye seemed rather pleased when he was gone. "The boy knows his place," he kept on saying whenever asked.
No one asked about Harry and Hermione sharing a room, which she was grateful for. They both rarely left it, inside, reading a book together or talking about anything. Moony was kind enough to give the Daily Prophet each day, and Hermione read it out loud as Harry exercised. They had made it a daily routine for him to exercise as she read the paper. Harry always said that he loved her voice. Sometimes, just to annoy him, Hermione sat on his back as she read. Still, he was able to finish his push-ups and sit-ups.
Heather often hung out with Harry and Hermione, not that he minded. She needed someone to talk to since Roland was off doing what ever he did. Harry could never remember when he was gone this long though. "I'm started to get worried about him," he said one day, they were having lunch with moony and Tonks. Mad-Eye was off on some Order business.
"He's a big boy," Tonks said, "He can take care of himself." She served herself another sandwich.
"But he's as tired as I think he's been, then Roland's in trouble." Heather was just playing with the salad on her plate. "He was complaining about being exhausted before."
"Do you know what his job is?" Hermione asked, and took another bit of her sandwich.
"No, I don't think anyone really does." Heather stopped, and just stared at the plate. "He hides it so well."
"Yeah I do don't I," Roland said, he appeared in the kitchen; Heather popped out of her chair and immediately hugged him. He took a few steps back, still weak from his job.
"I've missed you so much," she replied, not letting go.
"So I notice," he said, but quickly added, "and I miss you too. Can you let go? My ribs are killing me, a few of them are probably broken."
"Roland," Heather immediately let go and let him over to a chair. "Why did you say anything?"
"Because," He removed his hat and showed the bruises the covered his face, "I knew you'd act this way."
"Merlin, Roland," Hermione said, covering her mouth, "what happened?"
"Don't worry about it," he said, "just don't touch me too hard on my good arm, some third degree burns on it and I haven't figured out a way to remove them." Roland pulled up his right sleeve and showed the burns running down the arm.
"Oh, that's easier," Tonks said, and picked up her wand. She pointed it at his arm. "Burnet Removus."
"No, don't do-" Roland tried to say, but the spell was out, and he jerked back in pain. The wounds on his arm had opened up again, and started to bleed. Smoke began to pour from the pours of his skin and at some points it ignited into flames. He collapsed onto the floor, with a terrified look painted on Tonks face.
"I didn't mean to, I mean-it was the right spell." Heather knelt down next to Roland and began to run her fingers through his long hair. He was twitching on the floor. Harry quickly moved over to Hermione's side, placing his hands on her shoulders. She immediately calmed down.
Moony just stared there, staring at the young man in pain. Harry guessed it was because that he must have felt that much pain when he transformed into his werewolf form. The old man just stared, horrified at what he was seeing.
Roland never screamed, before at least Harry never heard him. And So when the tough man on the ground screamed, it was a surprise to everyone in the room. It wasn't a girlie scream, no his scream of pain was dark and horrible. It seemed to touch everyone in the room. But Roland only screamed once, he slowly stopped jerking, and began to pant hard. His breathing was deep and long. "Don't ever try to help me again," were the first words out of his mouth after it.
"I'm sorry, I didn't-" Tonks started. Roland stood up and had one of his shadow swords in his hand. It was pointed straight at her neck.
"I don't give a damn, Tonks," he yelled, "The path to hell is paved with good intentions." Roland was holding his right arm against his body. it was still smoking, but at least the wounds had stopped bleeding and weren't on fire anymore. "Because of my powers and the blood that runs through my body, most healing spells don't work." He was calmer, not yelling anymore. "I've had to create every single spell that I've healed myself with. So please, for my one sake, don't help me." He walked off and headed up stairs.
"I'm so sorry," Tonks kept on saying.
"Relax," Heather looked up at her calmly. "You didn't know."
"is he going to be alright?" Moony asked, finally getting out of his shock.
"Probably, that arm will be wrapped up for the next few days," Heather replied. "I just hope he'll talk to me about what happened."
"He won't you know," Mad-Eye appeared. "Roland's job is too important to this world for anyone else to know."
"Do you know what it is?" Harry asked. Hermione was just staring at where Roland was. He was gently rubbing her shoulders.
"No, but I have a good idea." Mad-Eye walked over to Moony. "Some more Wolfsbane for the month." And handed him a large vile.
"And what is that?" Harry asked.
"Roland is a hunter," Mad-Eye replied. "He removes the worst of the worst from this planet. The undead mostly." Harry noticed a twinkle in the old man's eye, like was lying, but he couldn't prove it. "you must promise not to tell anyone. If you know about him and his job, then you could be in danger."
"We can protect ourselves," Tonks stated.
"Not from these dangers, Tonks. What Roland faces, he faces because he is the only one who can survive the horror. Being blind means he sees more then us. Being a cripple means he is stronger then us." Mad-Eye walked off and disappeared into another room. Heather ran off probably to check on Roland.
Harry looked down at Hermione. "You alright?" He asked, still massaging her shoulders.
"I'll be fine," she said, "let's go upstairs." Hermione stood up; he kept his hands on her shoulders for a moment before sliding them down to her waist. She gave him a smile as they walked out. They heard voices at the top of the stairs.
"Listen, Mad-Eye," Roland was saying, "I really owe you." Hermione stopped where she was and so did Harry, they wanted to hear this.
"Roland, you don't owe me nothing," Mad-Eye said, "you've done so much for this world, it was the least I could do."
"Thank you, and thank you again for the info. I would've found them sooner or later, but it was a good thing that it was sooner."
"Good, I'd thought that info on the-" Mad-Eye stopped all the suddenly.
After a long moment of silence, Roland finally said, "the walls have feelings."
Both Harry and Hermione stopped breathing. Mad-Eye walked away, as he heard the sounds of the wooden leg hitting he fallen. A door shut, they didn't move for a while. Harry looked at her and said "do you think he noticed us?"
"I doubt it," Hermione started to walk back up the stairs; Harry wrapped his fingers around hers and followed. "Roland's powers aren't that strong. He told me once that the range of his empathic abilities was about two or three feet. We were least a good six feet away."
"But he did feel us all the way across the ocean," Harry said. They stopped at their door, and Harry opened it.
"Thank you Harry." They entered together, still hand in hand. "Harry, that was a traumatic event. He couldn't have felt us just standing there, being nosy."
"You're welcome," Harry said, "fine, Hermione. I won't win anyways." They sat down on the bed, and Harry pulled up his guitar.
"You've grown smarter, Harry," Hermione laughed at him. Harry started to strum a few notes and Hermione laid her head on his shoulder. "When do you think we'll be able to see Ron again?"
Harry paused and looked at Hermione. "I was thinking about that too, maybe we should owl him to meet us at Diagon Alley."
"That would be nice," she said, "I'm worried though."
"About what?" Harry turned back to his guitar.
"About us," Hermione replied, and Harry stopped again.
"What about us?" Harry was beginning to get worried.
"Relax, Harry," Hermione sat up and kissed him, "nothing bad, I'm just wondering how Ron will react with me going out with you." She knelt next to him, just staring into his eyes. "After all, I did break up with him."
"Yeah, he was pretty upset with that for a while," Harry smiled. "And why wouldn't he, you are the prefect girlfriend." He gave her soft gently kiss. "And I'm glad you're mine, 'Mione." She wrapped her arms around his neck, and Harry slid the guitar back to the ground. He lied down with her on top of him, their lips on connected. Harry knew only to take it as far as Hermione wanted to, so she was the one in control. After a few minutes of peaceful kissing, Hermione released and slid down to his side. "you're beautiful, and don't let anyone else tell you different."
"Thank you, Harry," Hermione blushed. He knew how much it helped her to hear such positive remarks about her. But he never lied to her. Harry did think that she was beautiful. He did think that she was perfect.
* * * * * *
Dumbledore sat quietly in his study, reading one of his old books. It was a peaceful night. The fire was burning bright, lighting up the room. A smile was on his face as he read the passages; next to him was a goblet of pumpkin juice, and an empty plate where his dinner once was. He had been alone for the past week, reading the books that were given to him by the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. They were very interesting, talking about a society that was even more secretive then the wizards were. The room suddenly began to grow colder; the fire began to die down. "You know, you could use the door like anyone else," Dumbledore said, turning a page.
"I was not in the neighbor when I traveled here," the man's voice said, darkness had arrived in the room, and covered almost all of it, save the little light where Dumbledore was. "And I did not want to scare any of your other teachers."
"It's quite alright, Hal," Dumbledore stood and turned around. Despite his old age, there was still a twinkle in his eye and a spring in his step. "Any news yet?"
"No, he was recently fighting a group of the Demon's warriors, and defeated them in three days time. That boy has been more trouble then he is worth, in his actions and his voice, you can clearly tell that he is one of them, Dumbledore."
"Which is why he's so important, Hal. May I remind you that he is more then willing to die for our cause? A quality that is rare these days."
"A simple spell, even one like that of the killing curse, can not kill Roland Childe." Hal spat out the name like it was poison. "He is not trustworthy. Especially with the demon inside him."
"I happen to believe otherwise, Hal," Dumbledore said, "he bares enough power to defeat Voldemort, and end this once and for all. And that demon which you speak of is the key."
"If Voldemort has his connections that I think he does, then Roland will be too weak by Christmas to do anything." A long period of silence followed, and Dumbledore began to rub his beard. A smile was on his face. "What are you thinking?"
"If he is too fixated on Roland, then the six elements will come in handy, won't they?" Dumbledore asked.
"Yes, but only the Fallen Angel can release their powers, and no one, not even heaven or hell knows where he is." Hal stared at him. "The Fallen Angel is the one we need to be looking for."
"I agree; do you have any clue as to where he is?" Dumbledore walked over to the man he called Hal. Up to that moment, he was hidden in the shadows. But when Dumbledore got closer, Hal's face began to show. It was ghostly pale, and had a green mask covering his eyes. A black hood was covering his head, and his black robe covered his body.
"In heaven, it is rumored that he is in-between the ages of sixteen and twenty-five. And that he has access to the wizarding powers in his body."
"Anything else?"
"Yes, he will be attending your school this year. It is just a hunch remember that. A lot of kids will show potential but only the true one will hide his abilities." Dumbledore showed that twinkle in his eye. "Do you know something that I don't, Albus?"
"No, nothing at all," Dumbledore quickly walked back to his chair. "If that I is all Hal, I thank you for you help. Please keep me informed of the situation."
"Of course," Hal dissolved into the air, and the warmth returned to the air, as did the fire grew back to its normal power.
"Roland, Roland, Roland," Dumbledore was saying. He took his seat and placed the book back in his lap. "I'm pulling for you, my boy. The war is growing, and Voldemort is getting stronger. He has found help through the evil mutants of this world, and now has your kind involved. You need to get stronger and hold out. Once you're here, I can help. I can help." He repeated it, if only to reassure himself, because he knew the extent of Roland's problems, and everything else that would go wrong at Hogwarts this year.